Adventures of Awkward Steve
by complimentarycouture
Summary: Awkward moments in the life of Captain America.
1. Persistency

_Persistency_

"…And furthermore I believe it is your puny humans' _law_ that you must inform me of my rights upon apprehension."

"Do you ever just stop?"

"You call yourselves heroes!"

"God! Steve, Thor, shut him up!"

"Maybe you'd like come back here and try?" In the back of the car, Steve wiggled away from Loki, wedged in the middle seat between his brother and a very uncomfortable Captain America.

"I could easily escape these bonds. You still have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Believe me," said Tony, turning around and already ignoring the speed limit, "we _do_."

Clint grabbed the wheel as the car swerved into the oncoming lane. Loki laughed a little too maniacally for Steve's peace of mind. Thor remained impassive.

Loki inched closer to Steve and eyed his shield up and down. Steve felt very awkward.

Nervous silence reigned in the little vehicle for a few minutes before Loki, still turned towards Steve, suddenly crooned in a low voice,

"Nice spandex."

Tony swerved again and both Clint and Steve started yelling at Thor to "shut your damn brother up or so help me God!" though with a few more expletives from the front seat.

"It's just talk, what do you want me to do?"

Loki raised his voice and began to shout what the three Midgardians could only assume were the most horrifying of Asgardian insults at everyone and no one. Clint sat practically backwards in his seat and Steve was about ready to open the door and just let himself fall out of the car.

"ANYTHING!" Thor flailed his arms and smacked Loki in the head, which did nothing to stop the torrent of angry foreign expletives but only got more of them aimed towards himself. Tony used one hand to steer and the other to point frantically at the glove box, roaring "Muzzle! Muzzle!" at Clint. Clint fished out an oddly-shaped piece of headgear and after shouting "Why do you keep this in here?" threw it back at Steve, who looked like he might have a panic attack if he had to actually touch Loki's person. Thor snatched it from his hands and after a struggle, during which Loki ended up in Steve's lap and the mortified Captain tried his best to melt into the upholstery, Thor got the mouth guard locked around his brother's face.

Muffled sounds still found their way out of Loki's mouth and he continued to struggle in between the two Avengers until he spotted a greasy shawarma napkin near his feet. He awkwardly picked it up with his bound hands and gave the car another once-over before leaning forward again and plucking a pen out of Tony's suit pocket.

"Hey! Dude! Keep your kid brother under control!" Thor shoved his brother roughly back into his seat and Loki shot him another contemptuous look before stooping over his lap and scribbling on the napkin with the stolen pen. When he sat up he held the paper in front of his chest for his captors to read.

_Damn you all._


	2. Walking In

_Walking In._

It wasn't that Steve didn't like Clint and Natasha. He liked Clint, when they had bro moments and discussed motorbikes. He liked Natasha, when she sat down and talked to him, because she was nice to him, and actually tried to understand when he couldn't seem to get through to the others. (She was a lot like Pepper, sometimes.)

And it wasn't that Steve doesn't like Clint and Natasha being together. He thinks they're good for each other, and they understand each other like no one probably does.

What Steve did not like was Clint and Natasha making out in the kitchen at midnight when he was trying to just get a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk, _come on_, guys.

The lights were off all over the Tower – Tony and Bruce were holed up in the lab, and everyone else was gone – and Steve didn't bother turning them on when he went on his search for a sandwich. He moved to the fridge and pulled out the milk, turning around without closing the door. His body blocked out most of the light, but not enough to prevent him from seeing Natasha pressed up against the countertop across from him, arms wrapped around Clint's back.

Steve froze. His mouth fell open a little bit.

Natasha broke her lip-lock with Clint and gave him an evil eye. Clint turned his head and managed to look a little bit embarrassed. But not much.

"I…sorry. I wanted, I mean, I didn't know…you…um, mm." Steve's powers of speech failed him and he turned to _quickly_ exit the kitchen. "I'll just go now," he said, milk and glass still in hand.

"You could at least close the fridge," Natasha called after him.

He returned, closed the fridge door, and left again, keeping his eyes on the floor the whole time. He was sure he was blushing.

"Thank you," Clint said as Steve walked past again.

He didn't really want a peanut butter sandwich anymore.


	3. Dinner

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed/followed! I really wasn't expecting much of a response, so this makes me feel really special. :P I'm not really a frequent writer so updates may be pretty sporadic…but I'm almost done with school, so maybe summer will inspire me to write. :]**_  
_

* * *

_Dinner.**  
**_

"So what do we do with him?"

The six Avengers stood in a semi-circle around Loki and stared at him curiously. He just glared back.

"We can't leave him unattended," Natasha said.

"Like he's some child who's going to get into trouble?" Tony turned and looked at her.

"Yes."

They all stared at the insane Norse god for a few seconds longer before Tony decided he'd had enough. "Well, let me know if you guys want anything," he said as he walked away. Thor shrugged followed him. So did Bruce.

"Hey!" Clint barked, and followed Thor. Natasha rolled her eyes and sent Steve a look, like _can you believe these guys?_ Steve smiled and shook his head, but when he looked her way again, her back was turned and she was joining the others. Leaving Steve.

And Loki.

And an all-but-empty New York street.

_Great._

"Wha…hey!" Steve tried to think of what to say to them, but they were already inside the shop. He couldn't leave Loki, but he wasn't exactly comfortable with him all by himself. Not that he was scared of Loki, oh no – just…uncomfortable. He chewed the inside of his cheek and turned back to Loki. He crossed his arms.

Loki glared back.

"Well," Steve said lamely. Loki raised an eyebrow, and then slowly lowered it again.

What followed was only one of the most awkward staredowns Steve had ever experienced. He stared, Loki stared. He uncrossed his arms, Loki stared. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, Loki stared. He bit his lower lip, Loki stared.

After about 10 minutes Steve decided he'd had enough. He was Captain America, he could do what he wanted, dangit. He didn't need to be out here having a staring contest with a greasy-haired, creepy alien god. So with a huff, he grabbed the cuffs on Loki's wrists and (perhaps rather too roughly) looped the chain over a metal pole sticking out of a broken light post. Loki was surprisingly compliant to the manhandling and made an innocent-ish face when Steve bent the pole back and pointed his finger in his face.

"Try any tricks, the Hulk won't be so nice to you next time." He took a step back and then added, more for himself than for Loki, "I'll, uh, be right back."

Loki tipped his head to one side. "Not too late, dear, I might get lonely." He smiled.

Steve blinked rapidly several times before turning and practically sprinting to join the rest of his team. After shawarma, someone else was going on babysitting duty.


	4. Fire

_Fire._

You would think that, being the normally cautious guy he was, Steve wouldn't have a problem with fire, but he was actually about as clumsy with it as he was dancing. The residents of the Avengers Tower quickly learned not to trust him with matches, fireplaces, gas stoves…anything that had an open flame and could potentially catch. He was too much of a hazard.

When the arc reactor went down for repairs and Steve tried to arrange candles to eat dinner, but ended up lighting his sleeve on fire and singeing Bruce's hands ("Be _careful,_ Steve!") when the guy tried to help him put it out, they all just laughed later.

When they all went on a team-bonding trip (aka Tony Stark's Annual Drink-a-Thon Weekend) to a lakehouse in upstate New York, and Steve burned a hole through the rug just trying to stoke the fire, most of them waved it off. "Weren't you ever a boy scout? Didn't you learn how to build a fire?" Clint asked as he took over the job.

"Too skinny," was all Steve replied.

When Thor got a whole bagel into the toaster slot and couldn't get it out, and Steve tried to fix it but just ended up with blistered hands, a charred kitchen counter, a ruined toaster, and a smoking Thor, Natasha waited until she was finished fanning the flames away to shoot Steve a concerned look. "Are you like, a closet arsonist or something? Pyromaniac, maybe?" she asked.

"Just clumsy," Steve shrugged.

And when Steve stood on the roof of the Tower and tried to light a firecracker on the 4th of July _of all days,_ and the ensuing sparks burned not only himself, but Tony, Pepper, & Jane, and sent the rocket flying onto Tony's balcony, startling Bruce to near-Hulk-out and causing a small house (tower?) fire, and the Avengers had to evacuate while the FDNY checked it out even though JARVIS had already taken care of it, they took action.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't know it would fly that way –"

"Maybe you just shouldn't be around fire, Steve," Tony said, quite seriously for once.

"You just don't seem to be able to handle it," Bruce continued, wrapping Pepper's hands in gauze. "Fire danger just follows you…"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, you're like, a _human torch_ or something."

Steve fussed with the gauze on his hands and made several promises to his team not to get involved with open flame again, while Tony lead them all back into the Tower with a rousing chorus of "Rogers Started the Fire" – which, of course, Steve didn't know the words to. _Sigh._

* * *

**Thanks to all my reviewers & followers! You're the greatest._  
_**


	5. Food Fights

_Food Fights._

There were shouts coming from the lab upstairs.

"See if your suit could handle _that_!"

"It's just a flesh wound!"

Here's how it went down: Tony was a childish brat, Bruce was annoying him, and Pepper had just brought a pile of snack food down to the lab. Bruce made a snide comment at Tony's hypothesis, Tony didn't believe he could ever be wrong and let Bruce know that far too sarcastically, and when Bruce rolled his eyes, Tony let loose with the closest celery stick. Bruce grabbed a Hot Pocket and chucked it back at Tony. Tony took a whole handful of peppers this time. Bruce held a Hot Pocket in each hand.

"Don't make me angry, Stark," Bruce threatened.

"Oh, The Other Guy doesn't like pre-packaged pizza bites?" Tony threw caution and vegetables to the wind.

When Pepper came back for the plates, she took one look at the mess and went right back for Thor and Steve.

Unfortunately, Thor got a carrot to the face the moment he stepped in the lab, and he only continued the fighting. Steve dodged another carrot and stepped in the middle of the lab. He put his hands on his hips.

"Okay, guys. This is not helping the state of the lab," he said, sounding a little like a mom. One of Bruce's Hot Pockets hit him squarely in the face. "Really, guys, grow up a little bit," Steve spluttered through the boiling lava/pizza sauce. Tony made a scoffing sound, and Steve frowned at him.

"Sorry, gramps. We'll clean it up."


	6. The Tattoo

_The Tattoo._

As far as Steve knew, he couldn't get drunk. He had tried, but the events of each party were clear enough and he never even woke up with the slightest headache. So it was a little odd when he was getting dressed one day and discovered a tattoo on his side that hadn't been there before. He pulled a shirt on and went to see Tony. He'd know what to do.

"Hey, Tony," he started. Tony grimaced and put a hand up. "So, last night was pretty crazy," Steve said more quietly. He knew it had been crazy, of course, _he couldn't get drunk_, remember?

Tony nodded slowly. "I didn't expect Barton to be able to drink that much. Why?" he asked, suddenly looking confused. "You should be able to remember, you can't get drunk."

"I know," Steve said, and lifted his shirt. "But I don't remember this."

Tony blinked and then leaned in to look at the exposed stomach. "What's it supposed to be?"

"I think it's a unicorn," said Clint, walking into the room and holding a hand to his forehead. "Where'd it come from?"

"He doesn't know."

"But you should be able to remember, you can't get drunk."

Steve sighed. "But I really don't remember this."

"Maybe somebody slipped you some drugs or something," Bruce suggested. Steve shifted uncomfortably and tried to pull his shirt down. Tony pushed it back up.

"At least you picked a good artist."

Steve ignored Tony and looked at Bruce. "No, I got to bed fine and I woke up fine – just with this."

Jane poked her head in the doorway. "Who can't get drunk?"

"Steve," said everyone.

"Yeah, me," said Steve.

Pepper walked in, looking the least hung over of the team, and Steve tried to pull his shirt down again, but Tony called to Pepper to "come and see what Rogers got himself into last night!"

"Geez, Steve, I thought you couldn't – "

"Couldn't get drunk, yes, I thought so too," Steve cut her off. The awkwardness of five people, _including Tony and Thor's girlfriends_, staring at his bare stomach, was starting to get to him. It only increased when Natasha appeared over Tony's shoulder. She didn't say a word, just stared and nodded slightly. God, this was worse than Erskine's whole team staring at him after his procedure.

Thor suddenly came barreling in the room, utterly too loud and too fast for the several hangovers in the immediate area, and Steve used the short distraction to get his t-shirt out of Tony's hand and pull it down over his waistband again, and escape to the kitchen.

He was reaching for the peanut butter when an envelope on the counter caught his attention. It was green…and sparkly. There was no name, so Steve tore it open and wrinkled his nose when he caught a whiff of roses and spearmint.

_I thought you couldn't get drunk?_

_Loki_

Steve hesitated, and then shoved the note into his pocket. He made a mental note to ask Thor about magical tattoos some other time.


	7. Fan Club

_Fan Club._

"Jarvis, since when do we have a doorbell?"

"Always, sir, but no-one has ever utilized it before."

Tony made a face and put it on his to-do list to remove the doorbell. Superheroes don't need doorbells, dangit.

Clint was the closest to the front door, so he got to take the vase of flowers (daisies, lilies, and yellow roses) from the deliveryman. He immediately took the vase (crystal) to Pepper, because he hadn't gotten them for Natasha, so who else would get flowers on a Thursday afternoon? But Pepper handed them back. "The card says Captain Rogers," she said. Clint smirked.

Steve was in the living room playing Mario Kart with Thor and Darcy. "Delivery for Captain Rogers," Clint announced. Steve took the vase from across the couch and gingerly pulled the card from out of the middle. It was an odd blue color, and had sparkles.

Tony appeared at the top of the stairs, wondering who had been at the door.

"Steve got flowers."

"From a _girl_," Darcy said.

"No, it's from the – "

Tony crossed the room and tried to take the card from Steve. "Rogers has a girl? Let me see." Steve recoiled and clutched the vase to his chest.

"No!" He took a step back and collided with Thor.

"Don't be shy," Thor said with a smile. He reached over Steve's shoulder for the card. Steve pulled some ninja moves to get out of Thor's grip and rammed his shoulder into Clint, who had moved around the couch.

"C'mon, Steve," Clint whined, "let us see." Steve shook his head.

"Nooo, Barton." He threw himself at the couch and tumbled over the back, sloshing water across the room.

Tony stepped towards Steve again. Thor moved to take the vase, and Steve realized he couldn't hold on to the vase and stay balanced at the same time that Pepper reached in and attempted to tear the card out of his hands. Steve made a quick decision. He let go of the vase, Clint and Thor both fumbled it, and it crashed to the tile floor, startling Pepper enough to let go of the card. Steve quickly pocketed it.

"Oh, oh geez, Steve, I'm sorry."

"Most sincere apologies."

"Hey, really sorry, man."

"I'm sure we can get you a new one, right, Pepper?"

"Of course! There's gotta be another one around here."

"It's fine. Really. I'll clean it up. No big deal." Steve stooped and started picking up pieces of broken glass and flower stems. Everyone else did, too, and ended up bumping heads and arms and stabbing themselves with shards of the vase. For superheroes, they were kinda clueless sometimes.

When Steve finally left the room, he couldn't help overhearing Tony ask Pepper, "But who buys flowers for a _guy_ anyway?"

Steve smiled and flipped the card between his fingers.

_You're still our favorite, Cap!_

_- New York City Veterans of Foreign Wars_

* * *

**The last two chapters were both kinda rushed (the Tattoo one was on sketchy 3G on a Droid), otherwise I would have remembered to thank you all, so: Thank You to all my reviewers & followers! You seriously blow me away with all your niceness.**


	8. Friend

_Friend._

One day, Steve decides he wants to get out of the Tower and see this new Manhattan. ("It's about time," Tony scoffs.) He decides to see a friend of his when he goes out. So off he goes on his way, and he smiles when he sees his friend, smiling back at him and sitting on a park bench. Steve lowers himself down onto the bench and crosses his legs.

"The weather's swell. It's good to see you. I just, I had been thinking about you, and I haven't talked to you in a while, so I thought…we should catch up. Oh! I brought you this. It's…a letter. I'll just put it there. You can read it later. When you get the time."

He looks up and his companion smiles back at him.

"You know it's still tough getting used to all this, but SHIELD is doing good by me. And I have a team again. That's nice. It's just like in Germany, only with more…electricity. And spandex. And, well…aliens."

He hears a chuckle and Steve just grins. He likes talking to this friend. He's quiet. Doesn't ask questions. Doesn't treat him like a museum relic, either.

"No, really! They're all very nice. And good fighters. Tony's just like his father. No, not just. Howard was loyal and brave and Tony, well, Tony's working on it. He's getting better. But he can be so infuriating sometimes! In all the ways that Howard wasn't."

He notices his friend's smile has faded, so he shakes off his nostalgia.

"At least I haven't had to ask him what fondue is."

And then he can't help but laugh. Bubbly and warm and delicious, like the sunlight bouncing off the two of them. New York really couldn't get more beautiful. Their laughter dies down after a few minutes, but the moment lingers. For a while Steve is content to just sit and hum and enjoy his company. Ten minutes go by – or an hour? He slept for seventy years. Who is he to judge the passing of time? With a sigh, he reaches out his hand to find a shoulder to clasp, hold onto, and share the happiness with, but instead he just claws at nothing. His hand falls heavily back onto his leg.

He's alone again.

"I miss you so much, Bucky," he says. "Everything just seems so awkward without you."

* * *

**Here, have some unsolicited Bucky Barnes angst. (I know this was totally not like the others, but my friend K's Bucky feelings were bleeding onto me. I promise it won't happen again!) More funnies to come.  
**


	9. Apple Pie

_Apple Pie._

"Wait. You've never been to McDonalds?"

"It wasn't around when I was growing up!"

"It's like, quintessential Americana! We gotta take you there. Come on, Banner."

And so Tony and Bruce accompanied Steve on his first trip to McDonalds. After Steve got over the initial shock of seeing a clown selling hamburgers, Tony waved at the menu.

"Anything you want," he said grandiosely. "It's cheap enough," he added when Steve shot him a look.

"Back in my time a hamburger was twenty-five cents."

They ended up getting a _whole lot_ of food. Tony had been working and hadn't eaten all day, and Bruce justified it by saying "I'm eating for two;" not to mention Steve's hyperactive metabolism. Steve liked it all – but particularly the apple pies. He got another before they left.

When they got back to the Tower, the story of Steve's first trip to McDonalds was, for reasons mysterious to him, the subject of much interest. He let his mind wander off while Clint tried to wrap his head around the idea of a world without the Golden Arches.

A few days later Natasha stopped Steve on his way out the door. "I'm just going down the street," he assured her.

The next day Bruce looked up, confused, when Steve asked him how late he thought McDonalds was open. "Oh…late," he said sort of noncommittally. Steve thanked him and bounced out of the lab.

But no one though much of Steve's comings and goings until about a week later when Clint really, really wanted to make a latte and realized the milk had run out, and Pepper suggested he look in Steve's minifridge. Steve was in the gym, so they opened the fridge without asking.

"Oh, good lord," Pepper said with a giggle.

Steve walked into his room ready for a shower and found the two of them already there, apple pies piled in their arms.

"Steve," Pepper said, "this is an intervention."

Steve turned a brighter red than he had while boxing Tony.

"They're very good," he said sheepishly.

Clint laughed. "It's okay, big guy, your secret's safe with us."

They made sure Steve's fridge was always stocked with McDonalds apple pies.

* * *

**Heyyyy, some more ridiculousness to get over the last chapter of angst.**


	10. Real Power Wants a Magazine

Loki tapped on the glass wall of his cell and stared up at the surveillance camera.

"No offense, but it's a little boring down here."

"No offense, but it's not designed for your comfort," Fury shot back over the intercom.

"You said I could have a magazine!"

Fury growled, but he didn't really want to have to deal with a whiny God of Mischief, so he turned on the nearest SHIELD underling and ordered them to _bring the man a National Geographic or something_ and the startled agent scurried off to the employee lounge. He ran straight into Steve on his way out, sending a _Glamour_ sliding down the hallway.

"Oh, let me help you with that," Steve said, bending to pick up the magazine. "Where are you taking these?" The agent jumped upright and saluted.

"Prisoner's c-cage, sir, captain, sir, I mean – " he was cut off when Steve took two more magazines from his hand.

"I can take it from here," he said, his helpfulness drive kicking in before his brain processed exactly what had just been said. The agent blinked, then scuttled off to where he came from.

Steve stood in the hallway for a few seconds longer, staring at the magazine covers.

Loki looked dully at Steve as he crossed into the room.

"And how are you going to get those in here?"

Steve glanced around the room. He was _not _opening the door to the cell. That was risky. And stupid.

"So you're Director Fury's errand boy now?" Loki jabbed. Steve ignored him. Were there windows somewhere? No…

"The famous war hero, reduced to delivering the paper," Loki tried again. _Do they even have newspapers on Asgard?_ Steve pondered this and stared at the control panel for a minute or two before giving up.

"And you're even still in your little outfit, how cute." Steve's thoughts halted momentarily. _Cute_ was the last word he expected out of Loki, especially applied to himself. He looked up at Loki and blinked. Loki grinned back.

"Magazines, please?"

Director Fury may have seen a lot of weird things in his career, but he still wasn't exactly prepared to look up at his surveillance screen and see – "IS THAT MY SUPERSOLDIER TRYING TO SLIDE MAGAZINES UNDER LOKI'S DOOR?"

Granted, it had not been Steve's brightest idea ever, but after a mini brainstorm session, he and Loki had decided it was at least worth a try. He jumped to his feet when he heard Fury storming in behind him.

"What in the hell – "

"Director! I was just…trying to, deliver. The…magazines. To Loki." Steve was floundering for answers and he had only worked for Fury for a day. _Swell._

Fury just looked at him. Steve straightened his back a little. "I can _see_ that," Fury said, almost shouting. "Why are you down here instead of the agent I sent?"

"He looked…stressed."

"Well, the doors are sealed, you can't get a magazine under there."

Steve's eyebrows twitched slightly together. "I realize that now, sir." Fury didn't reply, so he decided he should leave. He slunk around the director and dropped the magazines on his way out.

"I still want those," Loki said, looking pointedly at the stack. Fury glared at him.

"You, shut it."

* * *

**I…don't know. I watched Avengers again and this happened. Many thank yous and much love to my followers & reviewers! Mwah.**


	11. Technology

_Technology. _

Contrary to popular belief (_coughTonycough_), Steve is actually pretty good with 21st century technology. The best way to deal with it was to learn it, so he started teaching himself how to use the microwave, and computer sort of. And then the television. And the…the thing underneath the television. And while chronologically speaking he is ninety-one years old, his brain cells still function like a 24-year-old's and as we all know from personal experience and scientific study, young people adjust to new technology better than older folks, because of neurons in the brain or something. All this to say, Steve had figured out all of those gadgets SHEILD left in his apartment way before he'd started avenging and living in the Tower with the rest of his team. So even if the incident with the tablet and DUM-E was his fault, it wasn't because he was a war relic. It could have happened to anyone. The buttons are hard to distinguish from each other. And the PS3 doesn't work anymore because _Thor broke it, _not because Steve "fixed it wrong." He doesn't see Tony reprimanding Thor for not knowing why someone needs four G's when they've already got three (an honest question!) and he's from a different planet, for Pete's sake. Steve just needs a little more time to get used to things, and he'll be good-to-go on any gadget, anywhere. Touch screens, no problem. He's got this. He may not like it, but he'll get it, and then, maybe Tony can start working out or something, because last Steve checked he can still beat Tony up like a little kid, _huh_, funny how that works. Not that he'd ever beat a little kid. Oh, gosh, no, he's never – no. That would be wrong and against everything he believes in. BUT that aside Tony is as useless physically as he seems to think Steve is with a remote control, and using smartphones isn't really vital to life, no Clint, it is not. And Steve thinks he can get along fine in the Tower with no supervision, thanks very much. No, he doesn't count Jarvis as supervision.

He huffs and charges downstairs to the gym.

Tony is still skeptical.

* * *

**What am I doing with my life?**


	12. Coffee

_Coffee._

"You have like, a crazy metabolism, right? That's why you can't get drunk?"

"Yes. It was a side effect of the serum."

Clint nodded solemnly.

"Then why does caffeine affect you?"

Steve paused with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth and blinked.

"Uh."

"It doesn't," Tony said. "Toss me a Coke, Cap."

Steve put down his mug. "It does, though!"

Tony shook his head. "Placebo effect. Can I get a Coke, please?"

"What?"

Bruce flipped to the next page of the newspaper. "You've been drinking coffee for so long, you still drink it even though it doesn't do anything." He chuckled to himself.

Tony gave up and got his own Coke from the fridge. "You could pretty much go forever without sleeping, right? Because your body will keep itself going."

"Not _forever_ – "

"So you wake up, and even though you don't really need it, you drink your coffee out of habit, and you feel like you've woken up even though the caffeine never has a chance to reach your brain, thanks to your super soldier metabolism." Tony looked over his coffee mug with his I-just-beat-you-with-science face. Steve tried to come up with a comeback but just ended up pouting.

"So…I should stop drinking coffee."

Tony shrugged. "If you want. I actually think it's kinda cute, in an old-man-set-in-his-habits sort of way."

Steve leveled a glare at him, and Bruce spoke up again.

"So how do you know all this? Have you been running tests on him, Tony?" He asked, half-joking.

"Well, in a way. I replaced all the coffee with decaf a week ago…"

Clint and Bruce sprayed coffee over the counter at the same time.

"…and the only people not affected have been Steve, and Natasha, for whatever reason."

"Guys! I just cleaned this!" Steve wailed at them. "What the hell, Tony?"

"It's an experiment!"

"We're not your lab rats!" Clint said, wiping coffee from his chin.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, you think Ms. Romanov would agree to being cut off from coffee for a week? Don't even think you could break that one to her, Clint."

"Ms. Romanov already knew." Tony jumped as Natasha walked across the kitchen, teacup in hand. "Which is why she's been drinking tea. Here," she said, pushing the cup in front of Clint. He accepted it and looked positively giddy.

"That's…not fair," Tony spluttered. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"So I haven't had caffeine in a week? No wonder I had so many headaches…thought my prescription was wrong…" Bruce muttered to himself and walked towards the hallway. He grabbed Tony's arm as he passed by. "Now you're gonna buy me coffee."

Steve pouted some more. "How'd you know?" Natasha shrugged and took the teacup back.

"Stark's pretty obvious once you figure him out." She left the kitchen and Clint immediately followed. Steve could hear him saying things like _Tasha can I have some more tea it's really good Tasha wait I need my fix_ all the way down the hallway.

Steve sighed and started wiping the counter, tossing Bruce's soggy newspaper. He stopped when he got to his half-empty coffee and stared at it with a tiny melancholy sigh. (It's saddening when your favorite drink gets rendered useless.)

Then he shrugged and drank the rest of it.

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**I like talking about Steve's metabolism, for whatever reason. It's apparently fascinating to the rest of the Avengers, too. Love and thanks to all my readers, reviewers, & followers!****  
**


	13. Swearing

_Swearing._

"S***!"

"STEVE!"

Several pairs of eyes widened and stared up at a very-red faced and angry-looking Steve struggling with the toaster. (He had burned his fingers. Again.) Steve's own eyes widened and he raised his hand in front of his mouth.

"I…I didn't just say what you think I said."

"No, you said – "

"I know you think you heard me say…something vulgar, but, I can assure you, that is not what I said."

"I didn't even know he was capable of swearing."

"I said, ah." Steve stopped talking and pressed his lips into a line. He deliberately stared at the counter.

Tony grinned widely. "Can you believe that we were all in here to hear you say that? Just my luck. You lose, Barton!" Clint groaned and dropped his head into his hands while Natasha pulled a bill from his wallet. Bruce shifted in his seat and also dropped a nice, new, $20 bill on the table in front of Tony. From his post in the kitchen, Steve looked up and gaped.

"You guys were…betting on me?" he asked. Tony grunted.

"Don't look so shocked, you make bets all the time." The bills slid into his pocket and Clint let out another groan.

"Yeah, but – not about my teammates!" Oh, his face was definitely red now.

Bruce walked over to Steve and took the toaster-issue into his own hands. "Then what else are we supposed to bet on?" he asked, amused. "There's lots of variables involved." Steve pouted his lips.

"But that's terrible!"

Clint flopped onto the table top. "Tell me about it," he said, voice muffled by where his face was buried in his arms.

"You can't keep that money," Steve said, turning to Tony. "That was a mean bet, and it isn't fair."

Tony raised his eyebrow. "I'm keeping the money, Cap, whether you think it was mean or not. You're the one who swore at a _toaster_." Steve stared at him for a good few minutes. His lips pursed slightly and his eyebrows furrowed just a tad in the center. It was tense, to say the least. Finally, he stood up and made his way around the table, calm as all get-out. He paused next to Tony's chair and took a deep breath.

"Well," he said, "how much do you win for this?" He turned and looked Tony in the eye.

"F*** off, Iron Man."

And he walked out of the kitchen.

Clint whooped and took back his money, plus some.

* * *

**Errmmm, yep. Asterisks because reasons, though I dunno if it actually makes it any better. Also, now I have this mental image of Steve actually swearing in asterisks, though, which is…well, it's actually kind of hilarious. ****I'm trying to keep up with this as best I can, but sometimes inspiration fails to hit. Also because Supernatural.** Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, and followers! 


	14. Clothes

_Clothes._

"Look at that. The sun is shining, I have a hot dog, there are no aliens trying to kill me, and Captain America is struggling out of a taxi in front of my tower with his arms full of shopping bags."

(Pepper had sent Steve off that morning with the Avengers Credit Card in order to "update his wardrobe." He'd refused help, insisting that he knew what he ought to be wearing. _Thanks._)

Steve got out of the elevator and headed immediately into the kitchen, dumping his bags on Tony's rather too large couch. Over at the window, Clint and Tony watched him disappear before bounding across the room and ripping open the bags. They honestly weren't sure what to expect, and Clint sighed with disappointment when he dumped out the last bag and realized that they weren't any different than the clothes Steve wore now. He turned around when Steve walked back into the living room with half a peanut butter sandwich hanging out of his mouth.

"Steve, when we said update your wardrobe," Tony said, holding up a button-down shirt, "we meant not old man clothes."

"But that's what I like wearing."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but seriously, Steve? How many white T-shirts do you own?"

Steve chewed thoughtfully before answering. "Several," he finally said. Tony snorted and picked up a pair of blue jeans.

"Okay, these are good. Bet you anything they're mom jeans, though."

"No," Steve said defensively before Clint could take the bet. "They're...skinny."

"My God. Steve Rogers in skinny jeans. Who would've thought?"

"Put 'em on!" Clint yelped. Steve shook his head.

"If you're not gonna wear them then why did you buy them?" Tony asked.

Steve blushed furiously and scuffed his foot on the floor. "Because Pepper wanted me to get them. She called the guy ahead and…he said that, um, they were great jeans, and they'd look good on me, and when I put them on he, um, got really excited…he seemed to like them. I dunno."

Tony blinked, then smirked, and eyed Steve suspiciously. "Thought you were a bit more stubborn than that." He shrugged and threw the jeans back on the couch. Next to him, Clint cackled and doubled over. Steve shuffled uncomfortably.

"No," he spluttered, "he wasn't…you know. I mean was he? Pepper wanted me to..." He faltered and stopped as Clint fell to the floor in hysterics and Tony's stupid, stupid grin threatened to crack his face in two. He stared at the two if them and huffed, grabbed his clothes - minus the jeans - and stormed back into the elevator. Tony only looked up several minutes later when Pepper called (geez, is that woman psychic?) to chew him out for embarrassing Steve.

* * *

**Shoutout to papertowel1567 for the idea of Steve going shopping! Also, much love to all you readers, reviewers, and followers. [:**


	15. Vegas, Baby

_Vegas, Baby._

Girls.

There were girls _everywhere_.

And they weren't really wearing much clothing.

Steve & Co. were in Vegas, and the Co. had scattered far and wide to who-knows-where and nobody had thought to maybe stay with the man who had never gambled in his life, meaning Steve was left standing awkwardly in the middle of a casino. Tony said it was a palace - Steve didn't believe him - and it smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and rum. Two fat middle-aged men walked past and belched. There was a _reason _Steve had never come to Vegas before. He shifted on his feet. He was very alone.

Oh, except for the girls.

Clint whacked him on the back. He smelled like alcohol and Steve suspected he was hiding from Natasha (he'd never understand their relationship). After determining that _No, Steve did not want to go try counting cards with him_, Clint stalked off again, but was soon replaced by Bruce, who seemed to be taking things quite well, if by quite well you meant barely hanging in there. Steve steered him back to Tony and Pepper at the craps table ("Oh, I'll take him, Steve - " "No, Pep, stay," "Well, here, take him out and call Happy…")

Eventually Steve got Bruce bundled into the elevator with Happy, and unfortunately and not-at-all according to plan, he was still standing in a casino. Alone.

(And with girls.)

Clint suddenly appeared out of freaking nowhere with a smoking cigarette dangling between two fingers and offered it to Steve. He took it and ground it out in the nearest ashtray. Clint snorted but also started coughing, and with his guard down Natasha took her opportunity to, almost literally, pounce on him - Steve eventually just shoved them both towards the elevator and went back into the casino.

Where the girls were.

Steve decided the bar was, honestly, probably the safest place and he plunked himself into a barstool. Someone asked him for an ID when he ordered a beer and he gave them a withering glare instead. A girl in a sparkly black dress approached him and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Are those your friends?"

Steve cocked an eyebrow and turned to see Thor and Loki staring way too intently at a slot machine. Loki (who had for unexplainable reasons and for the author's own amusement given up his wayward life and had come to live with the Avengers in New York) was waving his hand at the machine while Thor pulled the handle. Steve groaned and in a matter of minutes had sent them packing down the hallway to, well, he didn't really care where, just somewhere where he didn't have to be responsible.

So to take stock of the current situation: Steve had successfully avoided a Hulk-out, aided Clint and Natasha in getting out their obviously repressed feelings for each other, and taught two Asgardians the wrongs of cheating a casino, _and _it was only 11 o'clock.

He hesitated on his way back to the elevator - Tony and Pepper were still down there, and his instincts didn't want him to leave one (or two) of his own, but - eh. Pepper had been taking care of Tony for a long time. She could probably handle it tonight.

(Of course, Clint and Tony would both be mad when they realized in the morning that the only girl Steve had talked to, he had brushed off in favor of Thor and Loki - "That's the whole reason we brought you here, dummy!" - but Steve would shake his head and smile and say, "It just isn't my kind of place.")

* * *

**Because Vegas, baby. **

**I love all of my readers, and followers, and reviewers. I do, I do. You're all awesome and special and ummm yes thank you, guys!**

**p.s. i'm on tumblr if you're ever interested. i'm complimentarycouture there, too.**


	16. Kansas

_Kansas._

It's the call of classic rock that gets him. Tony looks up from the paperwork Pepper's _finally_ got him to do and finds himself humming a Kansas song. That's odd. Who else would be listening to that? Tony wanders out of his room, but it's gone. He notices someone's got the TV on in the living room, which is odd, since it's, way past bedtime for growing little Avengers. He peers through the darkness to see Steve, clutching a pillow to his chest and sniffling. _Oh, no._ Tony runs across the room to him and clutches him by the shoulders.

"Steve! Steve, you okay, Cap?" Steve wipes his nose on the pillow, _gross_, and shakes his head.

"They're all gone, Tony."

Tony blanches. Steve's PTSD-breakdowns were getting fewer and fewer, but apparently this one's come on full force. He's not sure what to say, so he says, "Yeah, Steve."

"And he can't save them."

Someone on the TV is shouting and Tony thinks about turning it off, but Steve starts talking again.

"And he did everything for them and spent his whole life looking out for them and sacrificing and now he's really lost everything and, and, and he can't do anything about it."

Tony rubs circles in Steve's shoulders and wonders who "he" is - if Steve is just weird enough to refer to himself in third person, or if it's that other guy, Bucky, is that his name?

Steve supplies a name for him. "And Dean just wants a family, Tony."

_Who?_ Tony nods slowly, adjusts his position on the floor. Steve's tears seem to be slowing. "You wanna talk to me about Dean?" he asks.

Steve frowns slightly. "If you want," he says pathetically. "I don't know if you'd care."

"Of course I care, Steve, remember, we're a family now."

This seems to hit Steve the wrong way and Tony curses his luck at always saying the wrong thing as Steve suddenly dissolves into tears again.

"Okay, okay," Tony says, trying not to let the panic into his voice. "What happened?"

Steve sniffles, rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. "There was a knife. And he - he couldn't get to Sam fast enough." Tony breathes in slowly, runs a hand through his hair.

"God, Steve, I'm sorry. That must have been terrible. Did you know him? Was he in your company?"

There's that frown again. "What?"

Tony frowns back this time. "Who are we talking about?"

"Dean."

"From the War."

"From the _show_."

Tony sits back on his heels and stares at Steve for a minute. Steve stares back and looks really confused. "The show," Tony repeats, slowly. Steve raises his eyebrows and gestures at the screen behind him. Tony blinks at him, turns around, and blinks at the TV.

"Jarvis showed me how to use - um, whatsit, Netflix, a while back, and then Clint told me to watch this show called Supernatural and - "

Tony's face falls. "Rogers," he interrupts, spinning back to face him. "You are ninety-two years old - "

"Twenty-five."

"Nine. Tee. Two. And you are crying over a TV show."

Steve fidgets a bit before hanging his head and replying rather weakly, "It's very good."

"This can't even be a new episode!"

"I wasn't exactly around when it started!"

Tony snorts and stands up. "Get a life, Cap," he says as he leaves.

He's still got that damn song stuck in his head.

* * *

**I'm sorry that my updates are getting farther apart! My job takes up most of my time and then watching Supernatural takes up the rest of it. Heh. To be fair, I have been writing, just not…this. And if you don't watch Supernatural I am doubly sorry for this chapter.**

**Many, many thanks to my followers, reviewers, and readers - you guys are crazy, you know that? But I love you. Hope that's not creepy.**


	17. Puppy Eyes

___Puppy Eyes._

Okay, Tony can take it when Steve comes back from his good-press visit to that animal shelter in Brooklyn and demands that they adopt a dog because, hey, dogs are cool. And he can take it when Steve insists on naming the thing Bucky, which he thinks is incredibly morbid but also sort of adorable because, okay, it does look like a Bucky. Tony can take it when he and Clint get stuck petsitting when it's Steve's night on duty because Bucky's actually really fun to play with and who wouldn't want to teach Steve Rogers' dog to play dead when you say "land the plane!"?

(Pepper smacks him for that one. He knows he deserves it.)

Tony can also take it when Bucky eats half his cheeseburger, because the little guy must be tired of puppy chow and Steve's peanut butter sandwiches, right? Though he isn't thrilled that he found his way to the workshop. He suspects Loki is teaching Bucky more tricks than playing dead.

What he cannot take is Bucky peeing all over his Italian shoes just before a press conference and Bruce _laughing _at it.

"Control your pet, Rogers," Tony yelps as he swings a besocked foot in Bucky's direction. Steve looks alarmed and he runs to scoop Bucky into his arms before Tony can land a hit.

"He didn't mean to, Tony," Steve tells him. Tony scoffs and glares at the furry thing in Steve's arms while Pepper rolls her eyes and goes to get the paper towels.

"Seriously, man. Italian shoes."

Steve's face falls. "I'm sorry, Tony, but you can't hurt his feelings like that."

Tony just stares at him, obviously confused by what he's heard. Clint's eyes dart between Steve & Bucky and Tony, and then whoops with laughter while Tony pulls on another pair of dress shoes. Steve's arms tighten possessively around Bucky and he splutters, looking for apologies for his dog.

"I mean, how would you like someone kicking you?"

"Okay, Steve, I wasn't going to really kick him," Tony says.

"He has a name, Tony," Steve says quietly.

"Oh. I'm sorry. You know Bucky's just a dog, Rogers, he's not your friend."

Steve's face turns to stone and there's a long moment of silence in the room while Clint bites his upper lip and Bruce gives Tony a look that clearly says, _great, now you've upset the national hero. _Tony shrugs awkwardly and finishes tying his shoes, pretending he isn't aware of Steve's eyes focused on the top of his head and Bucky's happy snuffling noises as he struggles to get out of Steve's arms. When he finally sits upright, Clint and Bruce have disappeared and Pepper is still not back with the paper towels and Steve is still staring at him. _Awesome._

"I know he isn't a replacement for Bucky," Steve says quietly, "but he's the closest I've got to a friend." Tony's eyebrows furrow together and he takes a step closer to Steve. "He's not a person," Steve continues, "but he understands. He doesn't ask. Doesn't care that I'm...me." His voice falters out at the last word and he squeezes Bucky, who lets out a tiny grunt.

_Well, crap._ Tony's at a loss for words and silence reigns yet again as he and Steve stare at each other.

"I didn't know you felt that way," Tony finally manages.

"No, you didn't," Steve agrees.

"I feel like a horrible person now."

Steve smiles in spite of himself. "It's not your fault. You just can't really - " he bends over and releases the squirming puppy from his grip. "Get it. But it's okay." He smiles at Tony again, a little sadly, but such a very Steve way that Tony can't help but grin and clap him on the shoulder.

"Okay, so your dog is your best friend. I can deal with that. Just don't let him near my shoes again." He doesn't let go of Steve's shoulder until Steve grins too and nods his promise.

* * *

**This was supposed to be crackier but then feelings happened, I'm sorry. Consider it an introduction chapter. **

**My thank yous go out to every single one of you readers, followers, and reviewers! Love and hugs.**


	18. The Elevator

_The Elevator._

Steve came in early one morning from patrol duty and really just wanted to go to bed. He _hated _all-night patrol duty, but somebody had to do it. That's what he told himself as he slumped against the elevator wall and closed his eyes. Maybe no one would notice if he just slept here. The elevator stopped on the second floor and someone else got in. Steve attempted to ignore them, but they left a lingering minty, flowery smell in the air and Steve knew he had smelled it somewhere before...he opened his eyes and then screwed them shut again.

Loki chuckled softly. Steve tried to squeeze himself closer into the corner of the elevator.

"Long night?" Loki asked. Steve grunted in reply.

"Hmm," agreed Loki.

A few seconds passed in silence, and then Loki spoke again.

"Not much for conversation?"

Steve opened his eyes again and glared at his elevator companion.

"You tattooed a unicorn on my stomach."

"God of Mischief," Loki said. "Vandalism kind of comes with the job description."

"And it didn't come off for a week - "

"- But it did come off."

"...Yes."

"Well then."

A few more seconds of silence went by. Steve jiggled the floor number button and huffed in impatience.

"Look," Loki started, but Steve cut him off.

"I don't care whose brother you are," he said, moving into Loki's space, "I don't care what you've sworn to or off of or whatever, I think you're bad news and I don't like that you're living here and I don't have to be your friend. Am I clear?"

Loki stared straight into Steve's eyes and for a moment Steve thought he looked nervous, but it passed and Loki smirked slightly.

"Perfectly," he said.

"Good," Steve said, and turned towards the door. The elevator dinged their arrival.

"I mean," Loki said, leaning slightly towards Steve, "It's good to know Captain America's watching his own back." He smacked Steve on the behind, and then stepped past him into the living room.

Natasha walked past and stopped when she saw Steve's gawping face.

"Long night?" she asked.

Steve blinked. "And an even longer morning," he said.

* * *

**I love me some Steve/Loki interaction. Because reasons. I love you, followers! And reviewers. Etc. Mwah.**


	19. The Internet is a Scary Place

_The Internet is a Scary Place  
_

"Lawl."

Tony's head shot up from where he stared at his StarkPhone. Bruce glanced at him nervously.

"Ermahgerd."

Clint poked Natasha's arm.

"Asdfghjkl."

Thor hadn't known that was physically possible.

"Hey, are you all my Facebook friends?"

The group stood, silently, gathered around the couch.

"Steve."

Steve looked up from his tablet and smiled serenely at his friends. Natasha screwed her eyebrows together.

"Are you trying to make a smiley face?"

* * *

**Whoops, I am apparently one of those writers who gives up on a project without informing other people. My apologies. My Steve's reached the end of his awkwardness, thank you so much to all y'all who read it! It kept me going as long as it did and I'm sorry that this is just a teeny awkward moment. I hope you enjoy it anyway.  
**

**I've branched out to some other fandoms and I've been writing some there, so I'm still around and still trying to keep up the habit of writing, so my very very shameless plug is to remember me here or find me on tumblr if you're interested in the other weirdness I write. Love you all. Mwah.  
**


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